Lockdown
by Judge-Douglas-Mason
Summary: A Story. BS. The lab is in lockdown mode, will they all survive?
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: Don't own them. Wish I did, but I don't. Que Sera Sera

(In this story, to avoid using the same word over and over again, the action "to vomit" has been substituted with the following terms: EARP, honk, spew, retch, hurl, puke, toss, blow, up-chuck whistle, recapitulate and projectile vomiting, as well as other such terms)

Lockdown

"It was like a great big emotional enema." Jim said in earnest

This comment elicited some strange looks from his colleagues as they tried to keep straight faces. Jim was explaining some of the details of the seminar that he attended the previous weekend. Lately, Jim had been spending time with a group of men that for lack of better terms; "howled at the moon" and covered themselves in mud and played "Caveman" in the woods of Nevada. He had tried, unsuccessfully, to get Gil, Nick, Warrick and Greg to go with him; the other men being content to sit back and listen as Jim regaled them with tales and accountings of his own particular experiences.

They all sat at the conference table in the break room eating their evening meals when a package came for Gil. Wendy, the receptionist delivered it and placed it on the table in front of him. Looking at it curiously, Gil reached into his pocket and pulled out his lock-back knife and slit the tape along the seams and lifted the flaps to reveal a small plastic tub with a biohazard sticker on it. Quickly, he closed the flaps and carried it down to the DNA lab.

In the lab, Grissom found Greg sitting on a stool, his butt bouncing happily from side to side as the sounds of "Outkast" and "Hey Ya" poured from the ear buds of his headset. Knowing that Greg was oblivious to his presence, Grissom could not pass up the chance to scare the living poop out of the poor lab tech. Slowly and deliberately, he reached out his hand and poked a strong finger at Greg's back.

Whipping around and nearly flying off his perch, Greg snapped.

"Jesus, Grissom. Whatcha tryin' to do; give me a myocardial infarction?"

Grissom belted out with a hearty belly laugh as he plopped the box on the counter in front of Greg. He lifted the flaps, once again, and as Greg looked into the box, he scrambled off his stool and scurried down the hall to the morgue. Grissom stood, wide eyed, as he waited for Greg to return. Moments later, the young man returned with two gowns, thick latex gloves, face masks, goggles and a roll of duct tape; all of which, he set on the counter in front of Grissom.

Both of them having dressed and reasonably protected themselves, Greg tore several strips of tape off the roll and wrapped them around the gloves at Grissom's wrists. Returning the favour, Grissom peered into the box and carefully lifted the bucket out, placing it on the counter.

Turning to Grissom, Greg hissed.

"And what, might I ask, possessed you to bring this to me?"

"Well, its not a job for the coroner, I assume. So, you're the only logical choice." He replied

Slowly, Greg took a scalpel and sliced the tape. Seeing the contents, Greg turned his head and promptly honked into the basin at his feet. Seeing his colleague's reaction, Grissom looked deep into the plastic container. The contents were clear in colour and there was a very unsavory odor emanating from within, almost like that of cloves. Spatula in hand, Grissom swirled the business end in the pail and sieved the contents. Nothing came up and as he placed the spatula in a nearby sink, he looked down at Greg.

"You gonna live?" he asked

Greg made no discernable sounds, but kept heaving into the basin, which he now hugged to him as though his life depended on it. Kneeling beside him, Grissom put a hand to Greg's forehead and recoiled in horror.

"Greg, you're burning up."

Standing quickly, Grissom looked at the pail on the counter and slapped the lid back on it. Rushing to the phone on the wall, he dialed the first number that came to him.

In the break room, everyone was still eating, save for Sara, who had been sitting next to Grissom when he had been given the box. She had gone to the rest room and at present, had her head above the porcelain god.

Catherine's cell phone rang and placing her sandwich in front of her, she flipped it open and answered.

"Catherine Willows"

"Catherine, this is Gil. I need you to call Haz-Mat and have them quarantine the building."

"Why? What's wrong, Gil?" she asked in concerned tones

"That package I just got; well, Greg got one whiff of it and he's puking. He's also burning up. Is anyone else looking kind of green?" he enquired

"Well, come to think of it, Sara's been gone for a while." She replied

Grissom could hear Catherine talking to the group. She asked for someone to find Sara and check on her. Jim scooted his chair back and exited the break room, heading down the hall, calling for Sara. As he came to the locker room, he heard an all too familiar retching sound coming from within. Slowly and cautiously, he covered his eyes, save for a small slit between his fingers, and made his way to the bathroom.

"I swear, I'm not a perv. Sara, are you in here?" he called out

From around the corner, he could see the soles of Sara's shoes from under one of the stall doors. He uncovered his eyes and knocked on the door. Getting no response, he spoke up.

"Ok, like I said, I'm not being a pervert, but, Sara, I'm gonna open the door."

Slowly, Jim pushed the door and it swung open to reveal Sara on her knees, one hand holding her hair back and the other hand gripping on for dear life to the rim of the toilet seat. Seeing her in this state, Jim bent down and reached into his pocket, pulling out a rubber band. In a very sweet and loving tone, Jim spoke to her.

"Ok, Honey. I'm just gonna tie this back for you. Ok?"

Jim took her bangs and pulled them back along with the rest of her hair that was getting in the way. Within a few seconds, her hair was pulled back in a sort of ponytail and she looked up at him. Sara's face was red and the sweat was running down her face and into her eyes. She tried to blink back the sweat, but just the slightest of movements made her stomach turn. Jim walked over to the sink and pulled up a few paper towels. Returning to Sara, he wiped her face and handed her a few for her mouth. Keeping her eyes closed, Sara shifted her weight to her knees that were, now, on the floor. Turning her head to the side, she managed a few words.

"Oh, Jim, I'm..........I'm............EARP!!!!"

And with that, she quickly turned back to the bowl and recapitulated what was left of her lunch. Seeing that Sara was in obvious discomfort, Jim rushed back to the break room. As he left Sara in the stall, he called over his shoulder.

"I'll be back in a minute. Yell if you need anything."

Returning to the break room, Jim saw everyone running, quite literally, in circles, with no particular destination. Seeing Catherine on the phone, apparently in a very intense conversation, Jim turned to Nick and Warrick. Both men were pacing back and fourth.

"What happened?" Jim asked

"Catherine's on the horn with Haz-Mat. We're in lockdown mode." Nick explained

"Why?"

"Well, that package Grissom got is apparently hazardous. Greg's puking his guts out in DNA, with a fever. Uter is green already and I'm getting a bit dizzy." Warrick explained

Jim thought for a minute and without another word, he ran back to Sara. When he found her, she was in a bit of a better place than she was before, now sitting on the edge of the toilet, eyes closed, head in her hands and breathing kind of rapidly. Jim skidded to a stop beside her and gazed at her. He had never seen anything like this before. He had seen people get sick before, but never this quickly. Silently, he wondered what Grissom must have done to piss someone off like this, that they'd send him something so toxic.

Back in the DNA lab, Grissom lifted the plastic pail from the carton and noticed a piece of folded paper underneath. Carefully, he lifted it out and unfolded it, reading aloud.

"My dear, Mr. Grissom, You don't know me, but I am more than familiar with you and your exploits. You, sir, need to be taken down a peg or two. This little care package should illustrate my point. Have fun and remember, you may think you're God, but, you're not. It is not for you to decide who lives and dies. In this particular instance, I get to make the decision. Regards, Sir Bedevere."

Scratching his head for a moment, it was not long before Grissom realized that his mysterious benefactor had a truly warped sense of humour. The reference to Sir Bedevere was clearly from Monty Python's Holy Grail, which Gil knew from start to finish. In the film, two of the knights visited Castle Anthrax, so, placing all his eggs in one basket, he surmised that the gift must be anthrax. Taking a slide and dropping a dollop of the concoction on it, he slid it into the Gas Chromatograph Mass Spectrometer and hit the analyze button. He stood, rigid while he awaited the results.

Helping Sara to her feet, Jim grabbed one of the waste baskets from the bathroom and, hand on her elbow, he guided her to his office. The whole time her eyes were closed and she was breathing through her nose. Jim offered some words of encouragement to her, but they fell on deaf ears as she began to wobble from side to side.

As they passed the break room, Jim could hear Catherine, still on the phone with Haz-Mat. Her tone was soft, but forceful and she was relaying directions to the person on the other end of the line.

Thinking to himself, Jim wondered if they would all make it out of this alive. And to that question, he had no answer.

TBC?---


	2. Chapter 2

For the better part of the evening there had been men and women in ventilator suits coming and going from the lab.  
At present, there were only the usual night shift personnel in the building, everyone else that had yet to come in for the night, had been called and told not to report. 

From behind the glass panes of the window walls of Jim's office, Sara watched as one person in particular brought in several IV stands with banana bags attached to them. Jim sat at his desk tooling with some photos he had loaded on from the previous "Man's" weekend. In front of him was a photo of a friend of his in a rather exaggerated pose, wielding a long heavy duty Mag-Lite in his hand; underneath, Jim had typed in "keeper of the flame". As he looked at this photo, he laughed to himself; this startled Sara from her semi-peaceful state.

"What's so funny?" she asked

"Oh, nothing. Just a photo from this past weekend." Jim replied

Jim changed his gaze to Sara and felt for her. You see, Jim, unlike Sara, was in no way ill; not even in the least. While everyone else was busy puking their guts out or spiking with fever, Jim was feeling healthy as a horse. He stood from his seat at his desk and motioned for one of the Haz-Mat personnel to approach him. Opening his office door, he pulled a slip of paper from his pocket.

"If I give you the keys to my car, can you get some things for me?" he asked

"I'm really not supposed to, but I guess so, Captain"  
"Great. In the boot is a sleeping bag, a duffel bag and a case of wine. Please bring them to me."

Handing the keys to the man, Jim breathed a sigh of relief and turned, approaching Sara. At present, she was lying on her side, hand over her stomach and grimacing with discomfort. He knelt beside her and took her delicate hand in his. With his free hand, he brushed some stray locks of hair from her face and gently planted a kiss on her forehead.

"Everything will be better in a few minutes. I have some things in the car that may be of some help to you as well as I. Several changes of clothing, some toiletries as well as some Cipro from my flu last week; I've got a few prescription's worth. I also have a case of red wine that I picked up on my way back into town tonight. Since it looks as though we're gonna be here for a while, we might as well make the most of it, as much as we can"  
he explained

Sara, still queasy from listening to Jim, just nodded her head in affirmation and left it at that. She had not purged for quite some time, so Jim thought that things might be improving somewhat. This was a good thing, he thought; the last thing he wanted to see was Sara with her head buried in a bucket and the horrible sounds she made as she heaved into it.

In the DNA lab, Grissom was caring for Greg who had a fever of 102.4. He, himself, was feeling a bit ill, but nowhere near as ill as his poor lab tech. He had taken his own temperature not long ago and was slightly glad to see that it was only at 100.1. While Greg was curled up on a table in the far corner of the lab, Grissom was busy analyzing the contents of the package he'd received. His nose was firmly planted between the eye-ports of a microscope when his head began to spin and he felt his stomach turn. With the speed of Mercury, he rushed over to the sink and no sooner had he reached it, he began to whistle into it. After several minutes of projectile vomiting, he brought his head out of the sink and reached for a paper towel. Finding none, he turned on the tap and as cool water splashed into the palm of his hand, he wiped his face clean and rinsed out his mouth.

In the break room, Catherine, Nick and Warrick were trying as best they could to relax while they watched the throngs of protectively suited personnel walk the corridors. The door opened and in came two people with IV stands in tow. Nick snapped his head up and looked at them.

"What the hell are those for? You're not sticking me with any needle." he stated

"Sir, we need to do this to make sure you stay hydrated. Rest assured, this is in your best interest." one of the people replied

Sitting in his office, Jim waited for the Haz-Mat guy to return with the items he had requested. Pacing the floorspace of his room, Jim was momentarily oblivious to Sara's nauseous squirming. Only when he saw the man with a hand truck carting his things, did Jim stop pacing. He opened his office door and gestured for the man to set things down in the corner of the office. Having unloaded Jim's belongings, the man went to leave, but was caught by the elbow, by Jim. Standing, he watched as Jim pulled out his wallet and removed two twenty dollar bills. Handing them over, Jim was shocked when the man refused, but as Jim persisted, the suited man relented and accepted the tip.

Going through his pack, Jim pulled out his toiletry kit and removed a pill bottle. Dumping two pills into the palm of his hand and re-capping the bottle, he set it on his desk and walked over to Sara. He had also taken a bottle of Gatorade, so when he kneeled in front of Sara, he gave her the bottle and the pills.

"Take these, hun. If you can keep them down, you'll feel better in a bit." he explained

"These the antibiotics?" she asked

"Yeah, they are. They're a mega dose, so hopefully, they'll kick whatever this is right out of your system"  
"Thanks, man. How come you've got so many"  
"Well, I hate going to the pharmacy, so I let the insurance pay for the first script and pay for the refills up front and in cash." he explained

Going through the rest of his belongings, Jim found a fleece blanket, some herbal remedies, several changes of clothing, some of which would be suitable for Sara and his waiter's tool. Even though it was still early in the evening, Jim thought he'd have a drink. He looked over at Sara and saw that she was shivering a bit, so he unfolded the fleece blanket and draped it over her. After a while, she stopped shivering and Jim left her to check on the rest of the guys.

In DNA, he found Grissom honking into the sink and Greg passed out, still very warm. Approaching the young lab tech, Jim gently placed his hand on his shoulder and jostled him a bit. Slowly opening his eyes, Greg saw Jim and promptly recapitulated into the small trash basin beneath him. Looking across the room to Grissom, Jim made his way over and laid a comforting hand on his back. Gil snapped up and gazed at him through glossed over eyes.

"Man, you two look like hell." he joked

"Yeah, well, we don't feel much better." Gil replied

"I've got some herbals in my duffle bag that might help you all out"  
"Really, what've you got?" he asked, slowly sinking to his knees and curling up on the floor

Jim helped Gil to another table in the lab and as he climbed onto it and lay on his side, Jim told him what he had.

"I've got some Gaultheria procumbens, some Echinocystis lobata and some Monotropa uniflora. They should help with the fever, chills and upset stomach. I'm reluctant to give it out until people stop heaving. I've got enough for everyone in the lab to get at least a couple of doses. I'll go to the break room and see how the others are doing." Jim explained

"Jim, how come you're not sick?" Grissom asked with closed eyes, grasping his stomach

"Well, I had the flu last week and was on antibiotics, so maybe that's got something to do with it." he theorized aloud

In the break room things weren't much better than they were in DNA. Catherine was asleep and showed no signs of nausea and Nick and Warrick were as green as the Jeffersonia diphylla that Jim had in his herbal kit. It was a closely guarded secret that Jim was an amateur alchemist and he wanted to keep it that way, lest he be teased to the same degree that Gil was about his bugs. Jim had read books on medicinal herbs and plants to the point that if he were stuck in the woods for any length of time, he could survive on Mother Nature's bounty without getting sick, that is to say that he knew the edible plants from the poisonous ones.

Back in his office, Sara was doing slightly better than she was when he had left. She was still sweating, but her shakes had stopped and she was no longer an anemic shade of green, but now, more like a pink rose. One thing that Jim had neglected to mention that he had was a portable dvd player. It was no bigger than a lap top and had very good resolution to it. He pulled out several dvds and approached Sara, who was now sitting up and a bit more alert.

"Hun, I've got some films here if you're feeling up to it. You can just close your eyes and listen if you like" he explained

"Whatcha got?" she asked sweetly

"Well, let's see here, we've got Pretty Woman, Steel Magnolias, Terms of Endearment, The Evening Star, Witches of Eastwick, The First Wive's Club..."

Looking up at Jim, Sara offered her best smile, considering her physical condition.

"Oh, Jim. You never said you were a fan of Chick Flicks"  
"Well, that's a closely guarded secret. And since you're the only one that knows, if it gets out, I'll know who spilled." he said in low husky tones "And you'll get a spanking."

"Yeah, promises, promises." she managed

Jim just shot her a look and went back to his dvds.

"Full Metal Jacket, Stigmata, Bicentennial Man, Lord of the Rings, all three of them, Ladyhawke, Drumline and Pirates of the Caribbean. So, anything you like?"

"Yeah, how bout' Ladyhawke. I've seen it a bunch of times and I can just listen to it." she replied

"Ok, here it is and I'm gonna play nursemaid to the gang"

Herbals in hand, Jim made some rounds and distributed some temporary relief to those that had stopped vomiting. Catherine was out like a light and Nick and Warrick were still watching the Haz-Mat people filing in and out, wondering what their fates would be.


End file.
